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Wednesday, April 2, 2014

I started preparing our home for Passover. Yes, I know I've still got Two. Whole. Weeks. Whatever, I'm starting early as a kind of insurance against last-minute craziness courtesy of Bubbles. Laundry and kitchen duty have fallen, like the leavened cake crumbs of yesteryear, into some disuse. People, the ensuing disrepair these areas are experiencing ain't pretty. And today Bubbles's therapist came over. So I just shrugged and said "Welcome, we're so glad you could make it. Please notice the room we're working in is is an oasis of beauty and calm in a sea of Pre-Passover Entropy." She laughed graciously, and got down to the brass tacks of Bubble's torture session. (If you've ever worked with a really tough personal trainer, who keeps pushing you for more when you are totally DONE, you'll know what I mean.) I settled into my usual role of cheerleading Bubbles and learning the moves so we can do them on our own.

Did I mention that I'm cleaning for Passover? So today my dear daughter does something really nice. The Princess and her brothers have been pooling their money in the great bank of kids. (To which I owe, to date, $42.50, a new safe, and a collectors item of some sort.) I understand they were saving up to open a toy store.Recently there was a split, as the Professor wanted a more stable choice, and the Princess wanted to buy some things now, and Sporty had only been roped into it to begin with and wanted out. They are now each running their own operations. The Princess's share of the money was burning a hole in her Hello Kitty tin money box. Not a good situation in her estimation, and she set out to remedy it. She and Sporty headed to the bakery on the corner and bought goodies for the kids except Princess. When she got home, there was a battle royal.

Apparently, Princess offered Sporty a cupcake like the others or half a black-and-white cookie. Ever the connoisseur, Sporty went for the latter option. Which left the other half for the Professor. Who was upset.

Because Princess spent all her money, ill advisedly -hey, she didn't even get any!

With as much grace and aplomb as the Professor could muster, he turned down his half of the confection. Princess promptly told me to have it instead. Professor nearly blew up - he wasn't sacrificing yummy food for ME. He wanted Princess to have it . . . and she wanted him to eat it.

In the end, I split the remaining half, leaving them each with a quarter of the cookie and strict instructions to eat outside. I mean, hello? Doesn't the current disorder in the house tell you ANYTHING?

My beautiful, wonderful, loving kiddies each slipped me half of their cookie with a wink and a smile. I had been soooo careful to give each kid both the black and the white (being mindful of an apocryphal story about their dad and a sister of his) in their quarter. Due to their total lack of coordination I only got chocolate.